


The Flaw in the Plan

by jichulets



Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:37:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2014809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jichulets/pseuds/jichulets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody said a wedding planner's life was boring. Modern AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Diaval stirred his coffee, mixing sugar to his entirely-too-bitter drink. He was currently in a quaint coffee shop, waiting for a client. He checked his watch and realized there was still ten minutes before the appointment time.

He didn't mind waiting, though. These moments in between meetings enabled him to sort out the tasks he had to accomplish within particular time frames. To the other people in the coffee shop, he probably looked like a busy professional, what with him sifting through papers, writing notes and checking his phone frequently. Little did people know that his thoughts centered on wine and food tastings, hotel reservations, flower arrangement portfolios, and tailor shop negotiations. A lot of his friends are battling with overwrought bosses, endless paperwork, and office politics; he, on the other hand, concentrated on pitching the merits of his business, placating overzealous brides-to-be, and trying to please everyone meddling with his job. Nobody said being a wedding planner is a simple affair, after all. It certainly isn't boring, that he can ascertain to people who ask.

Right now he is waiting for his current client, Leila Halloway. To his luck, she was one of his more agreeable clients. Diaval has met the groom, Michael Goldstein, twice, and he seemed a nice enough chap. Like most grooms-to-be, however, he offered pretty useless opinions on the intricacies of weddings, so he only worked with Leila. It's actually almost a constant in his job that he dealt with the brides. It was fine for the most part, except when they get too frantic and demand too many things. In his line of work, they call those women bridezillas, and they were a nightmare to deal with. Nevertheless, the pay is good and contrary to what others think, he actually enjoys his work so he makes sure to see every job through, even the extremely harrying ones.

His phone beeped, signaling the arrival of a text message. After reading it, he sighed and put his phone down. Apparently Leila couldn't make it today because of an urgent matter at work. Still, it wasn't a free pass, because she's sending someone in her stead.

"Mr. Blanchard?" He heard a voice ask. He turned to face the addressor, prepared to give her a polite smile. The smile, however, was wiped from his lips by the sight of the woman. Full lips, iridescent eyes, sculpted cheekbones- this woman is  _exotic_.

"Are you Mr. Blanchard? I'm here at Leila Halloway's request." The vision in front of him spoke again, snapping him back to reality.

"Uhm yes. Please have a seat." He managed to reply, indicating the chair across him.

"So you're the maid-of-honor, Miss… er-"

"Mallory Moor. Didn't Leila tell you?"

"Nope. She just said she's sending the maid-of-honor today. No names. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Moor." He tried giving her a disarming smile and extended his hand. She merely raised an eyebrow but shook his hand regardless.

"Do you have the portfolios Leila asked for?" Mallory inquired, delving straight into business.

"Yup. They're in here." He passed her an envelope. She quickly perused the contents. Satisfied, she nodded.

"What else is on today's agenda?" She asked in a clipped tone.

"I was supposed to take Leila to see four caterers to test their menus." Diaval replied, putting his notepad and files back in his bag.

"I see. Shall we get going, then?"

"Ah, so eager to get this over with, aren't you?" Diaval teased. Mallory only shrugged in response.

This is going to be a long day.

* * *

Diaval was not used to silence. He doesn't mind being alone for the most part, but when he's with another person, he's used to filling the atmosphere with conversation. Currently, however, he was sitting in the car with a companion who has no inclination of chatting whatsoever.

Starting to get antsy, he blurted out, "Seems like Leila trusts your judgment."

Startled, Mallory turned to him and curtly asked, "Care to elaborate?"

 _At least she didn't ignore me_ , Diaval thought. "I've been working with Leila for a couple of weeks now, and she's always been a hands-on client. She's not like past clients that run me ragged but she has always endeavored to be involved in every aspect of the planning. I honestly thought she would just set another date for the tastings today, so that she can be here herself."

He noticed her lips formed a moue and her eyebrows quirked, as if she was surprised he has actually thought this out. "If it was any other task, she probably wouldn't have let me go," she replied, "but since it's just food tastings, I was deemed good enough of a substitute."

"Oh. Why is that?" Diaval queried quite eagerly, trying to prolong the exchange.

"I was once a restaurateur." Mallory answered, looking out at the urban scenery flashing outside the car window.

"Really? That's pretty cool. Why'd you stop?"

"Are you normally this talkative, Mr. Blanchard?" Mallory countered, a tad tersely.

"I suppose. I just like conversations in general. I feel like when you're with another person, you should at least make an effort to connect, you know?" Diaval shrugs, casually checking his side mirror before making a turn.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Mallory shake her head slightly. To him, she said, "No wonder you and Leila get along so well."

"And I wonder why you and Leila get along at all, if you're so averse to chatter." Diaval remarked, with a hint of amusement. They've arrived at their first destination, and he parked at one of the few slots available outside the establishment.

Mallory fiddled with her seatbelt. If Diaval wasn't looking t her, he would have missed the softening of her features, the obvious fondness in her eyes.

"It might have something to do with her being the best person I know", Mallory mutters before exiting the vehicle.

Diaval smiled.

* * *

Diaval didn't realize that being an ex-restaurateur equated to being an extremely nitpicking client. They were on their way to the last restaurant scheduled for today- not because they were checking their options, but because the first three hadn't met Mallory's standards at all. Her comments were, at first, amusing, but after the third restaurant he was starting to get annoyed. Hopefully the fourth makes the cut, because truthfully, these were the four best establishments he's worked with in the past and he's out of contacts if the last one fails.

"Is something the matter?" Mallory broke his musings with the inquiry.

"Huh? Why'd you ask?"

"You seem frustrated." Mallory remarked.

"How'd you know?" He asked, surprised she has picked up on it.

"You keep running your hands through your hair." She pointed out, which takes him aback further.

"So you've been observing my beautiful self, haven't you? Couldn't resist?" Diaval joked, smirking.

Mallory rolled her eyes. "It's not you, it's me- I'm just good at noticing people."

" _Whatever you say_ ", he drawled, provoking her further.

"Oh, just answer my initial question." She retorted.

"Fine, fine. It's your fault, really." Diaval huffed.

"What did I do?"

"You're a hard person to please! For your information, I've worked with all three catering places we've been to, and my previous clients never had qualms about them. But you found fault in the smallest of things. They're going to cater a wedding, not a presidential dinner!"

"Is it so wrong to demand perfection from them? I refuse to put them to a lesser standard than I would my own restaurant."

"The restaurant you no longer own, according to you." He exclaimed offhandedly, only realizing after he blurted it out that it was the wrong thing to say.

"Not because of subpar service and food quality!" She retorted, shooting him a nasty glare.

Diaval sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. That was rude. It's just that, if this last one still isn't to your liking, then we're starting from scratch."

"It's not going to be a problem. I still have contacts in the business, although admittedly they're expensive alternatives. I'm sorry if I'm being more critical than what you're used to. I just want Leila's wedding to be perfect, okay?"

Diaval nodded. "Got it." Then he softly added, "You're a good friend, Miss Moor."

"Just drive, Mr. Blanchard." Mallory commanded, her tone lighter than before. Diaval complied with a grin.

* * *

"Did you intentionally save the best for last?" Mallory asked between bites of their halibut and white asparagus risotto.

"Oh, is this one up to your standards?" Diaval replied, perking up at the thought.

"I think so. Their service isn't pretentious and the food is exceptional. Take this dish for example. First off, the mint is a crazy addition yet it actually gave the dish a depth of flavor. The risotto is cooked with great finesse, and the sear on the halibut is perfect all around. If you cut through it, you'll see it's glistening and moist…"

Mallory went on pointing out different components of the dish and describing them. Just one glance at her and one can see that this is something she finds fascinating, and the obvious pleasure in her eyes makes Diaval smile.

"Did I say something funny, Mr. Blanchard?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh nothing, really. You just look like you're having fun. You're a food  _nerd_." He quipped. She rolled her eyes, but this time it isn't out of annoyance.

"Owning a restaurant means you have to have an extensive knowledge of food, you know. There is so much to cooking that, I think, people should learn to appreciate more."

"If you love it so much, why'd you quit?" Once again, Diaval spoke without thinking. He really has no filter sometimes.

He was preparing to be shut down again, but instead Mallory gave him a real, albeit short response. "I was a great cook but an awful businesswoman."

"So what do you do for a living now?" Diaval asked, pushing his luck further.

"I'm an editor for a publishing company." Mallory replied before taking another bite of her dish.

"Do they publish cookbooks?"

"No, just regular fiction books."

Diaval frowned. "Do you plan on reopening your place?"

"What's with the sudden interest in my life, Mr. Blanchard?"

"You're a person of contradictions. I find that intriguing." He stated unapologetically.

"How am I 'a person of contradictions'?"

"You're best friends with a person who's your complete opposite, and your passion is food yet your line of work has nothing to do with it. That's odd, isn't it?"

She heaved a sigh. "I am not a puzzle to solve, Mr. Blanchard."

"Just Diaval. Mr. Blanchard is a mouthful, isn't it?"

"It's just a syllable longer. I don't mind the extra work." Mallory countered, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

* * *

"Finally!" Diaval exclaimed, snapping his seatbelt into place.

"If you took me here first thing, we wouldn't have had to trudge along all day and waste our time, would we?" Mallory remarked.

"Okay, fine. Still, it wasn't such a waste of time spending the day with me, don't you think? I am, after all, scintillating company." He smirked, revving the engine.

"Are you always this vain?"

"I have a right to be."

"You're annoying."

"What a brilliant comeback." He laughed when he heard her huff in exasperation.

"Shut up and take me home." She mumbled.

His grin grew wider. "Was that a proposition?"

"What? No! I meant drive me home, you insufferable man!"

"As you wish, mistress."

She shook her head in defeat.

* * *

 

 **A/N:** All food knowledge comes strictly from Masterchef US :))


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It's been three days since, and Diaval couldn't stop thinking about Mallory Moor. He drove her home that night, as she requested, and through incessant needling he got her to admit that she enjoyed their day out. To be fair, she only said "at least today wasn't as awful as I expected it to be", but that was progress! And she even gave him a small smile when he bid her adieu that night.

For three days he fought the urge to text Leila about her maid-of-honor, because he's still her wedding planner and he had to maintain an air of professionalism, but he knew he couldn't keep himself from mentioning Mallory to his client in person.

"Hello, Diaval!" Leila greeted him cheerily, breaking him out of his reverie. They were at Smithfield, the café where he usually meets his clients.

"Hello, Leila. How are you?" He greeted back as she sat down.

"I'm good. I'm so sorry about the other day; I had to cover surgery for a while because one of my colleagues called in sick at the last minute." She explained, referring to her work as a doctor.

"Oh, don't worry about it. Miss Moor and I got the job done well enough. Did she tell you about the trip?" He tried to pose the question nonchalantly, but Leila's sudden teasing smile indicated that he failed.

"Yes, she did tell me all about it. So we're going with Luca's for catering. I look forward to the food! If Mal says it's good, it must be incredible."

"It was. We particularly enjoyed the protein entrée, although all three courses were excellent. They also have vegan entrées for other guests but they'll need a final count of people so they don't run out."

"Okay, I'll forward a list by Saturday. Hopefully everyone RSVPs by then."

"Saturday will work." He replied, penciling in the detail on his organizer. "Check these out." He hands her a couple of papers.

Leila quietly peruses the price quotations, but then blurted out "So Mal seems to have taken a liking to you."

"Huh?" He looked up from his notes, dumbfounded.

Leila's grin grew wider. "I saw her two days ago and wouldn't shut up about my 'weird wedding planner'."

"And that's a good thing how, exactly?" He retorted with an amused air.

"You piqued her interest. You made an impression." Leila pointed out.

Diaval snorted and dismissed her, "Yeah, okay."

Leila shrugged. "You don't believe me? How about you come around for lunch on Saturday. I can give you the final list of attendees and we can do seat plans then. I'll invite Mal, too."

"Are you seriously trying to set me up with your best friend?" Diaval asked skeptically.

"She enjoyed your company, even if she won't say it outright. That's the first time in a long while. You can't blame me for trying to play matchmaker." She states with a smile.

"I can't deny a client's request so long as it's reasonable. I'll come 'round on Saturday as you wish,  _milady_." He said dryly, eliciting a laugh from his companion.

* * *

Diaval arrives at 11am on Saturday at the Halloway abode. Another car is parked at the curb, and Diaval deduced it to be Mallory's. His heartbeat sped up against his volition, and he was a bundle of nerves when he finally knocked on the front door.

"Diaval! Right on time. Come in." Leila ushered him in. In the living room, Leila's fiancé welcomed him with a handshake.

He had just put down his satchel when he heard a voice in another room. "Mama, is that the wedding man?"

Leila chuckled and called out, "Yes darling, Diaval is here."

A six-year-old girl bounces into the room. She's almost a carbon copy of Leila, with her blonde hair and blue eyes. Leila had brought Aurora along for a couple of meetings, and she had taken to calling him 'the wedding man'.

"Hello!" Aurora jumps in front of him.

"Hello princess! How are you?"

"I'm great! Auntie Mal is making my favorite dessert today! And Mama said we will do more wedding stuff today. Are we finally going to look at dresses?" The child exclaimed brightly.

Leila addressed her kid, "Not yet, sweetie. Next week, I promise."

"Okay. I'm going back to Auntie Mal." She dashed out of the room to what Diaval assumed was the kitchen.

"Sometimes I wonder who the girl adores more- you or Mal." Michael joked to his bride-to-be.

"She's a sucker for her Auntie Mal. My girl wants to be a chef like her aunt when she grows up." Diaval's client revealed, amused at the thought. Diaval responded with a grin.

"We were about to make some calls because some of the people we've invited haven't RSVP'd yet. It might take a while. Would you mind joining Mal in the kitchen?" Leila asked.

Diaval chortled. "Was this premeditated, Miss Halloway?"

Leila smiled impishly. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

* * *

Diaval leaned against the doorway, taking in the scene in front of him. Aurora was currently seated on a countertop, talking animatedly to Mallory, who was, by the looks of it, busy with a million things at once. She had something grilling, something on the pan, and she was sampling various other things. He watched as she took a wooden spoon and dipped it into the sauce. After taking it out, she blew on it and put it in front of Aurora. "Want to taste, little beastie?" Aurora nodded happily and carefully licked the spoon. "Yummy" was the child's verdict, smiling indulgently. Mallory chuckled lightly.

"Can I sample that as well?" Diaval announced his presence with the question. Mallory jumped slightly, startled. He laughed.

"Annoying me so early in the day, aren't you?" She glared at him, which only entertained him further.

"Blame Leila. She sent me here because they had calls to make." He moves to stand next to where Aurora is. "Hello princess." Diaval pats her golden head lightly.

"Hello, wedding man." The kid smiled cheekily at him.

"Wedding man?" Mallory raised an eyebrow.

"It's my new moniker, apparently. Kind of like a superhero name."

"What a lame superhero you would make." She quipped, baiting him.

"Hey! I resent that. I am totally cool. Aren't I, little one? Aren't I?" Diaval turned to Aurora, imploring her to say yes. Instead she laughed and replied, "No, you're lame." He put a hand on his chest in jest. "You wound me, kid."

Aurora laughed again, and this time Diaval doesn't miss the way Mallory stared at her. As it turns out, Mal was a sucker for Aurora, too.

"Auntie Mal, you should let the wedding man taste the sauce too!" The child exclaimed to the woman.

"Yes, Auntie Mal, let the wedding man sample the food" he said in a singsong voice, but then added seriously, "which smells  _absolutely_  amazing. What are you making, anyway?"

Her features soften at the compliment. "I'm making T-bone steak two ways- the fillet mignon grilled, the sirloin pan-seared. The fillet will be served with haricot verts lightly cooked with butter and roasted potatoes, with a parmesan crema. The sirloin, on the other hand, I intend to dress with caramelized onions and a beef reduction sauce." She explained, pointing at the different pots and pans laid out around them.

Diaval laughed helplessly, a little bit lost with the details. "Wow. Okay. That's a lot going on."

"Not really." She succinctly replied, a touch of confidence in her tone. Diaval agreed silently, acknowledging that she looked completely in her element here.

"Remind me again why you're working for a publishing company instead." He mumbled, in awe of the grace by which she moved throughout the area.

She frowned. "I thought I already told you."

"You only gave me a reason as to why you're no longer a restaurateur. But you can still cook for a living! Give cooking lessons or something. Or take short business courses so you can reopen your place."

Instead of giving him a response, she handed him a spoonful of the sauce she had Aurora sample. "Stop prying, will you?" She muttered tersely. He took the spoon from her and simply stared at it.

"Go on. I'm not going to poison you, you know! I wouldn't do that to the food." He glared at her, earning an upward quirk of her lips. He blew on the sauce and brought it to his mouth.

It's quite possibly the best thing he's ever tasted in his life.

He only realized he said it out loud when he heard Mallory say "thank you" and Aurora launch into a spiel of "Auntie Mal is the best! She makes the best fish and the best steak and the best salad and…"

He rinsed the spoon on the sink, feeling a stronger urge to get to know the enigmatic woman better.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Leila finally called him back to the living room, and they talk guest lists and seating arrangements for a while. He had just fixed a final chart when Mallory tells them lunch is ready.

They went to the dining room, Leila and Michael seated on one side, him on the other and Aurora at the head, in a high chair. Mallory brought in the stunning plates and sat beside him.

"I would have suited up if I knew this was going to be a fancy lunch." Diaval joked.

"Nothing but the best from a Michelin-starred chef." Michael remarked. Mallory threw her patented glare in his direction.

" _You're_ a Michelin-starred chef?" Diaval uttered in disbelief. While he had limited knowledge of the culinary world, he was at least aware of the Michelin guide.

"Not anymore." Mallory replied, as if it wasn't a big deal.

Still, when he complimented the food, Mallory's look of pride was enough to tell him she was faking the nonchalance.

* * *

After the scrumptious lunch, they went back to the living room to get down to business again, which meant he and Leila exchanged ideas and suggestions, while Michael pretended to be interested and Mallory just played with Aurora on the couch. At this point, the only major things they needed to find were wedding singers and the wedding suits. Every other aspect had already been smoothed out with a lot of time to spare.

They set up a meeting next week, to finally get Leila the bridal gown and find the bridesmaid's dresses.

"Mal, you're coming with, right?" Leila asked her friend.

"Why do I have to come?"

"Because you're maid-of-honor! The bridesmaid's dress should look best on you. If it turns out to be horrible on everybody else in the entourage, they just have to deal with it. But if it looks awful on you, it would be a travesty, so yes, you're coming with."

"Please come Auntie! We'll find a dress for me and I need you to tell me if I look pretty." The little girl in Mallory's lap pleaded.

"Fine, beastie. Although I've no doubt you will look pretty in whatever dress you wear." She said, lightly running her fingers through Aurora's hair to tame it.

"Like you, Auntie?"

"Not really, beastie. Unlike you, I can't look pretty in everything." Mallory smiled fondly at her goddaughter.

"That's not true. You're always pretty. Right?" Aurora turned her head to the three other adults in the room. Michael nodded, Leila assured her with "of course you're right, darling." Diaval merely smiled, hoping it would be taken as indulging agreement to a child. However, Aurora was persistent for a more detailed answer. She tapped Diaval on the knee and asked, "wedding man, wouldn't Auntie Mal be pretty in any dress?"

"She'll be pretty in any dress, princess." Diaval replied, patting the child's hand.

"You really, really mean it?"

"Of course."

"You really, really, really mean it?" Aurora pressed on in her tiny voice, making Diaval laugh.

"Yes, Aurora, I mean it. Auntie Mal could wear a burlap sack and still look beautiful." In the background, he heard Leila giggle, and he felt Mallory's piercing stare.  _Too revealing,_ Diaval realized. So he added, "Although you shouldn't let that happen, so you better help pick Auntie's dress, okay?"

"Okay!" Satisfied, Aurora finally returned to Mal's lap.

Mallory's gaze settled on him the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

"I'll just e-mail you directions to The Clothing Palette. Remember: Wednesday, 1:30. Don't be late! Fittings usually take long. I suggest choosing your style preferences from the portfolios I gave you, so we'll have an easier time. Anything else before I leave?" Diaval casually queried, packing up his things.

"None as of yet. I'll just text you if I have any other concerns."

"Okay then. See you guys Wednesday." Diaval stood up, smoothing his clothes a little bit.

"Not me. I'm so glad I only have to wear a suit. Thanks, man." Michael offered his hand again for Diaval to shake. Aurora bellowed "Goodbye, wedding man! See you!" To which he replied, "See you then, princess."

Diaval addressed Mallory, offering her a grin. "Thanks for the incredible lunch. My compliments to the chef."

Mallory rolled her eyes, pressing her lips together as if to keep herself from smiling. "Thank you, Mr. Blanchard."

"Just Diaval." He insisted.

"See you Wednesday,  _Mr. Blanchard_." Mallory teased, this time with a tiny smile on her lips. He let his eyes linger on hers a little longer, a challenging smile on his face, until Leila stepped in front of him.

"Come, I'll escort you out." Diaval doesn't miss Leila's smug expression. She walked with him to his car.

"Thanks again for your time, Diaval."

"It's my job." He stated, unlocking his car door.

"Can I tell you something?" Leila whispered conspiratorially. Diaval raised a brow but nodded.

"She was showing off today."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you think she regularly makes 'greek yoghurt panna cotta, with stewed rhubarb and variations of honey' for a casual lunch?" she rhetorically questioned, complete with air quotation marks. "That sophisticated hullabaloo was specifically for you, dummy!" Diaval's client exclaimed, clearly amused with what she's saying.

"But why would she show off for  _me_?" He asked incredulously.

"Why do you think? She was trying to impress you."

"How could you be so sure? Don't you think you're reading too much into this?" Diaval countered, not allowing himself to hope.

" _Please_. I've known Mal since high school. Even then, she used cooking as a courtship device, probably because she used to be so clueless with boys. Look, just trust me on this, okay? And a piece of advice: Google is your friend."

Bewildered, Diaval frowned. "What does that even mean?"

The only response he got was Leila waving goodbye enthusiastically as she ran back to her home.

* * *

Diaval checked his e-mails that night, trying to ignore Leila's parting words. Still, they come unbidden to the forefront of his mind, and before long, he succumbed by Google-ing the first thing he thought of- Mallory Moor.

A list of articles appeared on his laptop screen, including a Wikipedia page. He clicked on this first and read:

_Mallory Moor (born 1984) is an American chef, best known as head chef and co-owner of Michelin-starred restaurant The Oak Room, which closed in 2011._

The page included a brief summary of her career, and the controversy surrounding The Oak Room's closure. He went back to the results page and selected another article, entitled "Michelin-starred Chef Double-Crossed by Partner." All the other articles, aside from restaurant reviews, were variations thereupon. From all this, he learned that The Oak Room used to be one of the best establishments in San Francisco, and earned its first Michelin star two years after its conception, an impressive feat for a woman who jumped from culinary graduate to head chef. He also found out that The Oak Room was co-owned by Stefan Bashkir- the funds behind the kitchen, and Mallory's ex-boyfriend.

The Oak Room wasn't just an entrepreneurial venture, one of the articles he read stated. It was a romantic commitment. In one of the few interviews Mallory has given the media, she had said that they planned on making the restaurant a family business, a primary source of income after marriage. It was only after Stefan had embezzled enough of the restaurant's funds to drive the place to bankruptcy and after he had started a new restaurant with none other than Mallory's sous chef that she realized Stefan didn't share her sentiments..

After hours of absorbing every piece of information the internet had to offer on the subject of one Mallory Moor, Diaval understood why she was adverse to the idea of starting up the restaurant again, why she didn't want a job that centered on cooking, why she, an individual with so much talent and promise, chose to fade into the background. She wasn't just cheated by a business partner. She was betrayed by the man she loved, a man who knew her goals and aspirations, and casually shoved them aside for his own selfish desires. She loved him for years, constructed a future with him, and he didn't even think twice before leaving her high and dry. Suddenly, she wasn't a person of contradictions anymore. She was simply broken.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Wednesday rolled around, and Diaval was still bothered by what he discovered about Mallory. More importantly, he was worried because he had a tendency to speak without thinking and he didn't want to reveal that he had researched her background behind her back. A logical part of him argued that it was on the internet, therefore it was public domain, but he had a feeling this line of thinking wouldn't work on her.

He was talking to The Clothing Palette's manager when his clients arrived.

"Wedding man!" Aurora ran to him, practically jumping with excitement.

Diaval bent down, hands on knees. "Hello princess. Ready to find the perfect dress?"

"Yup!" Aurora beamed. The manager motioned for them to follow her out of the reception area into a special fitting room. The little girl tugged at her mother's hand to walk faster, leaving Mallory and Diaval to lag behind.

"Hello, Miss Moor. Aurora giving you a hard time?" He greeted with a grin.

"The sooner we get her a dress, the better."

"You still seem incredibly fond of her, anyway."

"Let's state the obvious, shall we?" Mallory replied dryly, eliciting a laugh from Diaval. Leila was still talking to the manager, pointing out the gowns she want to try out first, so Diaval and Mallory settled on a couch.

Diaval was racking his brain for what to say next when Mallory muttered, "I had to look after her for an inordinate amount of time, because Leila had her when she was still in med school. The kid practically lived with me when her mom was interning. It was hard on Leila, but it was a necessary sacrifice, I guess. Being a doctor has always been her dream."

Diaval was taken aback by Mallory willingly sharing a part of her life, and he had to admit it made him feel giddy.

"No wonder Aurora adores you."

Mallory puckered her brows together. "She shouldn't. I didn't do as good as job as I should have. At first I felt like Leila unceremoniously dumped her kid on me. I was resentful and completely unprepared."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. If you really screwed up, I doubt Leila would have made you maid-of-honor and named you godmother of her kid." Diaval reassured. She appeared surprised at first, an expression that morphed into an uninhibited smile.

"Stop flirting and get over here, you two!" Leila called out to them, smirking. Mallory glared at Leila, huffing when Leila instructed her to fetch a particular gown. When Diaval walked over to his client, she told him to 'wipe the dopey smile off his face and get to work'.

His "dopey" smile only grew wider in response.

* * *

Fittings were one of the aspects of wedding planning that Diaval found boring. In all the years he's been in the business, he has rarely had a "fitting" day that didn't take  _hours_. Most of the time, the brides he has worked with demanded to have all bridesmaids with them, which makes the situation a guaranteed fiasco. Everyone was trying to weigh in on the wedding gown, and every single bridesmaid has to be satisfied with the bridesmaids' dress, and more often than not it resulted in arguments and complaints. He dreaded this particular part of wedding preparations.

Today, however, was a treat in his opinion. They were moving efficiently because his client was not the fussy sort, and for the first time, he didn't have to deal with constant shrilly shouts of "but I look fat in this!" or "it clashes with my hair!" or "this dress is horrible!"

"Mama, are you done?" Aurora called out. For the past couple of minutes, she has been pirouetting around the room in her new dress, fascinated by the way her skirt twirled. Finally tired, she moved to sit beside Diaval.

"Just about, darling." Leila's voice rang out from behind a curtained area. Seconds after, she steps out in a gown that is fitted up to mid-thigh, then flared out. The style in itself was simple, but the details on the bodice were very intricate.

"Mama, you look so, so pretty, like an angel!" Aurora jumped from the couch to launch herself at her mother. Leila picked her up and hugged her, burying her face in the child's hair. "Thank you, princess."

Diaval beamed. "You look great! I think it suits you very well."

"Thank you! I knew this was going to be 'it' the moment I laid eyes on it."

"It's a good thing you're so single-minded, Leila." Mallory stated, moving to stand behind her best friend. "You should put your hair up, like so" she gathers blond tresses, twists them and holds them up to demonstrate. "You look beautiful." Mallory murmured, letting Leila's hair fall. The latter put a hand over her heart and smiled, eyes getting moist. She walked to a rack and grabbed a forest green dress. Handing it to Mallory, she softly said, "Try this one for me." The reticent woman complied.

* * *

Minutes later, Mallory slid a curtain open and bit her lip. Leila tugged on her hand and pulled her to the center of the room.

Aurora was once again, the first to speak up. "Wow Auntie, you're so pretty!"

Leila put both hands on her friend's shoulders. "Perfect."

Diaval was the only one who didn't speak. He wanted to, but his mouth felt dry. He couldn't do anything except stare at the vision in front of him.

"Diaval." He tilted his head to acknowledge Leila, but his eyes were firmly planted on Mallory.

"Diaval, what do you think?" Leila's tone was filled with glee.

He swallowed and found his voice again. "You look stunning."

Mallory mumbled a "thank you" that he almost didn't catch. The blush that suffused her cheeks didn't go unnoticed, either by him or Leila.

His client pouted. "Maybe I should change my gown."

"Why?" Mallory asked.

"Because all I got was 'great' while you get 'stunning'! I am the bride, you know! Can't have you stealing my day!" Leila laughed airily, leaving her maid-of-honor bemused and unable to respond.

The rest of the afternoon went by like this: Diaval accomplished paperwork with a stupid grin on his face, Mallory vacillated between gazing at him and averting her eyes, and Leila walked around with a smug expression that she seemed to have perfected given the number of times she has used it in his presence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The following week, Diaval recommended that they find a suitable reception band. Leila forwarded a list of songs she preferred and they were supposed to watch two bands perform a couple from the selection. He's already made the necessary arrangements when he received a text from Leila hours prior to the scheduled meeting.

* **Oops, I forgot to tell you Mal is coming instead of me. I trust the two of you can handle finding the perfect musicians. You can thank me later. ;)** *

He was equal parts nervous and excited when he arrived at The Esplanade the day of the appointment. The first band they were to listen to had already set up their instruments, and were preparing for the performance when Mallory arrived.

"Feeling alright, Miss Moor?" He greeted when Mallory sat down beside him, facing the stage.

Mallory smiled in response. "Do you have a copy of the reception repertoire?"

"Printed it. Here." Diaval passed the set list to her. Her eyes roamed the page and she crinkled her nose in displeasure.

"What, are the songs not to your liking?" Diaval inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Mallory gingerly handed him back the paper. "This thing is literally composed of the cheesiest songs Leila could find."

Diaval chuckled. "Well, it is a wedding, after all. What did you expect, Skrillex? The Rolling Stones? Then again, I've had to organize a rock and roll-themed wedding before, and even a goth-inspired one. I had to do extra research to nail that one."

Mallory weakly smiled in amusement but turned somber immediately. "Leila's always been a hopeless romantic, even then."

"You speak like it's a bad thing."

Mallory sighed. She crossed her arms and leaned back, staring ahead at the band now playing in front of them. "I never worried about Leila when we were young. She was beautiful, popular and well-liked. Her optimism had good cause- she was the one people fawned over. But when she was carrying Aurora… I honestly thought she was never going to be okay again. She had been dating this boy for a year and a half when she got pregnant. When she told her boyfriend, he flipped out and wouldn't accept responsibility, even going as far as to accuse her of cheating on him and trying to swindle him to get child support. Her father disowned her and she had to take a leave of absence from med school. Her reputation among her peers got shot, and she lost a lot of friends. She had to do menial jobs to get by. She was miserable for months." Clenching her fists, Mallory continued, "She'd been diagnosed as depressed, but of course she can't take meds so she had to suffer all the mood swings unaided. One minute she was coping, the next she was furious at the world. She had to go through that on her own, and it nearly killed her."

Mallory's voice had become steely, and in her eyes Diaval detected extreme anger. Stiffly, she finished, "She's fine now, but her life and her future almost got ruined because of some guy she thought loved her. And yet here she is."

Frowning, Diaval asked, "You don't approve of her fiancé?"

Wearily, Mallory explained. "I've got nothing against Michael. He's great with Aurora and he treats Leila right. However, I also thought Leila's ex was a decent man and I never expected him capable of hurting her the way he did. I've never said anything against Leila's current relationship. As long as she's happy and Aurora was taken care of, it's fine. However, a marriage is a lot harder to revoke! It's not like they can just throw Michael out if ever something were to happen. They're dragging legalities into this, and I think that's not wise in the long run."

Diaval was appalled by what he heard. Dismayed, he retorted. "So basically what you're saying is that you think they'll divorce eventually? That's an awful view of your best friend's marriage!"

Mallory waved him off. "It's just a practical view. Leila has Aurora to think about, after all."

Amidst strains of  _Grow Old With You_ from the band, Diaval faced Mallory and firmly stated, "Relationships don't have to have an expiration date, you know. Just because a guy screws you over doesn't mean it's the end of the world. Leila knew that. You, on the other hand…" he ran a hand through his hair, "you continue to let Stefan's betrayal dictate your life and you automatically assume the worst in everyone."

Mallory's expressions changed to one of shock in the blink of an eye.  _Crap,_ Diaval thought. With great difficulty, she uttered, "How- how do you know about Stefan?"

Internally cursing his lack of verbal filter, he tried to explain, "I- well- I read it online and-"

Mallory stood up abruptly, halting the musicians' performance, and held up her hands in a gesture of exasperation and agitation. "Of course.  _Of course_." Heatedly, she rounded on him. "Can't wait to solve your little puzzle, can you? Can't resist sticking your nose in another person's business?" She pressed her palms on her eyes, drained. "Of course I can't even choose to keep my past to myself without people  _prying_ ", she muttered.

Diaval rose and moved to stand in front of her. "Miss Moor- Mallory,  _I'm so sorry_."

Lifting her gaze to meet his, she snidely remarked, "I can't believe I thought you were different. You're just like everyone else, wanting to fix a person for your own self-fulfillment." Mallory glared at him one last time before snatching her bag from a chair.

She was walking towards the door. Diaval, in a wave of panic, rushed to her and reached out to grab her arm. "No wait, Mallory.  _Please_."

With a look of disgust on her face, she yanked her arm away from his hold, "I'm sure you're competent enough to finish the job by yourself, Mr. Blanchard."

All Diaval can do is stare at the door with a hurting heart, regretting his profession for the first time in his life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Diaval has spent a lot of restless nights ever since the day he last saw Mallory. He tried to distract himself with work, but even that was no longer enough. All he could think about was how stupid he was to spoil what he had with Mallory before it even began. He missed her, which was silly considering he had only known her for a short while. Leila tried to bring up the issue whenever they met, but he always pleaded for her to let it be. A part of him blamed Leila for even suggesting he dig up information on Mallory's past, but he knew it was his fault for satisfying his curiosity first, without even thinking about how that would make her feel.

Diaval was a wreck during dress rehearsal. The dress rehearsal itself went by smoothly, but Mallory didn't even spare him a glance all throughout, and it made him feel infinitely more horrible than he already did. Leila repeatedly threw the pair of them worrying looks, which made him guilty. It was his job to relieve the stress from the bride and groom, and instead he was adding to their concern.

Leila and Michael's rehearsal dinner was not a semi-formal affair like most rehearsal dinners, but a backyard barbeque party. Leila invited him, partly in gratitude and acknowledgement of his work, but mostly because she was hoping for a reconciliation between himself and her best friend.

He took his time getting to Leila's house for the party, trying to think of the right apology, the right words to say. When he arrived, the bride and groom's family and friends were already gathered in the backyard, music and lively chatter filling the area. Upon seeing him, Leila pulled him aside and muttered "she's a mess, talk to her" before handing him a glass of wine and ushering him inside the house.

Diaval slowly walked to the living room and found Mallory reclining in a couch, legs crossed at the ankles and fingers intertwined atop her lap. A bottle of wine and a half-filled glass was placed on the coffee table in front of her. Her eyes were closed but there was no peace in her facial features.

"Mallory…" He whispered her name, almost reverently. Mallory opened her eyes to look at him, startled.

Diaval walked further into the room. "Can we talk?" She remained silent but sat up straight, a gesture of acquiescence.

Diaval settled on an armchair, sitting on the edge and leaning forward, arms resting on thighs. He remained silent for a while, observing her. She kept her glance downwards, refusing to look at him.

Steeling himself, he began, "Mallory, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I disrespected your privacy." Mallory's face reflected conflict, yet she still kept her eyes averted from him. Diaval ploughed on, "When I first met you, I admittedly got curious and I wanted to know you better. Leila was prodding me and I couldn't resist finding out about you, so I looked you up online. I was worried that I would miss my chance because I only had a limited time with you, so instead of waiting for you to open up, I forced my way in. You had the right to refuse to share things with me, and I disregarded that. I'm sorry." Shame clawed at his insides, making its way into his voice, into his plea.

Mallory looked up for the first time, sighing. "You were bound to find out anyway. The information was practically public domain."

Diaval emphatically rebutted, "Still, it was wrong. You didn't ask for it to become public domain."

Mallory picked up her glass, swirling the liquid in it gently. "It's fine. I did overreact. It was rude of me to leave just like that. I just… I hate the way people change how they act around me whenever they find out what happened."

At Diaval's perplexed expression, Mallory explained. "Pity. They pity me, they feel sorry for me, they look at me like I'm a kicked puppy that's never going to be alright again. It's absolutely sickening."

The woman's attention returned to her neglected drink, brooding. Diaval brought her out of her ruminations. "I don't pity you."

An arched eyebrow was her response. "Really?"

He affirmed with a nod. "I don't. I've always found pity to be a patronizing emotion, you know? Honestly, I was…  _disappointed_. Felt sort of let down, even though I've really no right to feel that way."

Incredulously, she asked, "Huh? Why?"

"I guess it's just… from the moment I met you, I've had this impression that you were a formidable person, like you're no-nonsense. Strong. Driven. I hadn't pegged you as someone who would let a thing like failure completely deter her from achieving her goals." Running a hand through his hair, he continued emphatically. "I'm not underestimating what you've gone through, and to some extent I understand why you act the way you do. But you've got so much promise, you know? So much promise, so much talent. Very few people discover something they actually love doing, and even fewer people manage to make a living out of something that they genuinely enjoy. You did. You have the resources, you have the abilities, and you used to have the drive. But you let one person steal all that away from you. You let Stefan snuff out your passion. The bastard may have broken your heart and it's okay to be hurt over that, but the real shame is that you've let him break your spirit as well."

Tears pool in Mallory's iridescent orbs, but she shut her eyes to prevent them from falling. Her breathing became ragged, and her knuckles turned white from being clenched too tightly.

He lightly grasped her forearm and softly said, "Right now the person hindering you from pursuing what you've dreamed of all your life isn't Stefan- it's yourself. Think about what that means."

Diaval stood up and walked away, knowing that if he looked back he'd never want to leave.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Diaval didn't get much sleep the night before the wedding, replaying his conversation with Mallory over and over again. He'd been completely honest, but he'd also been brutal and he wished he could have done something to assuage the pain she felt.

Since he was operating on a few hours of sleep, organizing everything before the ceremony was more difficult than usual. He was all over the place, rushing and making sure all was set perfectly. It took longer for him to get it together, but he managed with the barest of margins. An hour before the wedding, he checked in on his client.

It was Mallory who answered the door.

Awkwardly, he greeted. "Uhm, hi."

Mallory gave him a tentative smile, opening the door wider. "Hi. Do you want to see Leila?"

"Yeah. Just to check in."

"Okay." She finally let him in, making a motion to leave.

Just as she was about to exit the room, he called her back in a surge of bravery. "Mallory?"

Wary yet hopeful eyes turned back to him. "Yes?"

"You look wonderful."

Her features softened, smiling as if she was genuinely touched. "Thank you."

He continued to gaze at the door after she was gone, until he heard a giggle behind him.

"I take it things are alright now?" Leila asked, grinning. She was decked in her wedding gown and shiny accessories. The best thing she wore, though, was her radiant smile.

"I don't know. We talked yesterday but… I don't know." Diaval replied. "Anyway, that doesn't matter right now. Everything alright with you?" Hands in the pockets of his slacks, he walked closer to her.

"More than okay, actually." She cupped her face with her dainty hands and exhilaratingly exclaimed, "I'm getting married! I can't believe I'm getting married!" Diaval surmised that she probably woke up smiling and hasn't stopped ever since.

"Everything's set outside. Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Well, then. It has been a pleasure working with you, Miss Halloway, and congratulations." Diaval said congenially, extending a hand for her to shake. Leila, however, moved to hug him.

"Thank you, Diaval. For everything."

Diaval left the room knowing she was no longer just a client, but a friend he'd like to keep for a long while.

* * *

The entire ceremony passed by in a blur. Diaval watched the entire thing unfold with a sense of pride, thinking that this might be his best work yet. Guests were wiping tears of joy during the vows, and they laughed when the couple kissed before the officiator even finished his proclamation.

Diaval finally relaxed during the reception, his job for the night over at last. The celebration was in full swing, and practically everyone was having fun on the dance floor. Even little Aurora was twirling and jumping all over the place, probably on a sugar high. However, the maid-of honor contented herself in observing everything from the sidelines. Diaval spotted her, and with a lump on his throat, he approached her.

"Mind if I joined you?" He asked, waving an arm at the table she occupied. Mallory smiled, shaking her head.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the festivities, uncertainty palpable in the atmosphere, when Diaval decided to speak up.

"You know, in a couple of weddings I've been to, the best man and the maid-of-honor almost always hit it off. Leads to a second wedding sometimes, sometimes a temporary fling." Diaval remarked in jest.

Mallory turned to him, amused. "Are you suggesting I get together with the best man now?"

"Just sharing a fun fact." The wedding planner shrugged, biting back a grin.

"Too bad it can't happen tonight. For one, the best man is married. Look", she pointed in the direction of the best man, who was currently making out with someone he assumed was the man's wife. "Secondly, he's not really my type. And I'm interested in someone else, anyway."

Diaval's pulse quickened at her words, his palms getting sweaty. Rubbing them on his slacks surreptitiously, he croaked out, "Oh? Who?"

Mallory's expression clearly said  _do I need to spell it out for you?_  However, she doesn't answer his question out loud and instead posed another query of her own.

"Why did you become a wedding planner, Mr. Blanchard?"

He mulled the inquiry over, wondering why she was asking this now.

"Well… it wasn't really a conscious decision on my part. I didn't wake up one day and decided that this was what I wanted to do. But a friend of mine got hitched a couple of years ago, and they didn't have enough to hire a wedding planner. It would have been alright if they weren't so panicky, clueless and pathetically disorganized. Everything was a mess, with only a few weeks to go before the wedding date. I felt sorry for them so I stepped in, and we managed to pull off a decent ceremony. They spread the story to other friends, and they asked me to try my hand at organizing another wedding, and another, and another, until I realized I was making money out of it and it just became a thing."

Mallory was looking at him intently, listening to every word he says. The attention is admittedly flattering, he thought to himself.

"Do you enjoy it?"

Diaval's eyes roamed over the place, taking in the merry scene. "I do. I've had people make fun of my work because they think it's demeaning for a man or some other crap, but the thing is, it pays and I'm good at it. Besides, I like having a hand in other people's happiness, however transient it might be for them."

Mallory's smile turned wistful, and she fiddled with the napkin on their table. "I used to feel that way, you know?" At his questioning glance, she expounded. "I loved cooking, but I wanted to start my own restaurant because it was important for me to provide people a place they could enjoy. I've always believed good food was a catalyst for a good social experience. If the food was great, then people are more able to enjoy each other's company. I wanted my food to be something that connected people, something that helped them communicate and build relationships. But somewhere along the way, I lost that. I forgot that, and it made turning my back on that part of my life easier than it should have been."

Voice getting more impassioned, she continued, "Meeting you reminded me of that. You were right- I was the obstacle to my own path. I had no one else to blame for my failures. I was so desperate to have Stefan love me and care for me the way I did for him, and in doing so I allowed him to take hold not only of my affection but also my passion. I lost sight of my ambition, but you… you were just so convinced that I still had more to give. You forced me to reevaluate my life, and somehow I found myself wanting to validate your belief in my capabilities. I was wrong when I said you were like everybody else. Your first impulse wasn't to be the guy who fixed my broken heart, as if romance was the secret to being complete, like so many are prone to believe. It was my passion, my life's dream, that you saw, and even then you didn't want to fix it for me, but to help me do it myself."

Mallory's words rendered him speechless, unable to believe that this woman, this exquisite woman, is speaking about him with such warmth and fondness. Diaval thought the pleasant surprise ended there, but then he felt Mallory's hand slip into his, squeezing tightly. "I guess, what I'm saying, in my  _woefully_  inadequate way, is that I'm grateful I met someone as unprecedented as you."

He stared into her eyes, not daring to say anything, for what felt like minutes. With wonderment, he ran a thumb over the knuckles of her fingers, and he finally broke the silence.

"I really wouldn't call that inadequate."

A laugh escaped her, partly sheepish, partly embarrassed. Not pulling away, she asked, "Can I tell you a secret?" He merely nodded, not trusting his voice.

"One of my college classmates owns a restaurant, and they recently lost their head chef. Since the sous chef replaced him, they've been left with a vacancy and my former classmate has been pestering me to accept the position for weeks now. Well, this morning, I e-mailed him back. So… I am now the new sous chef of The Mediterranean." Mallory bit her lip, trying to contain her palpable excitement. Diaval, on the other hand, had no qualms reigning in his enthusiasm.

"No way, really?! Congratulations! When do you start?"

"Three days from now."

"Wow" Diaval paused for a moment, regaining his breath. "I'm so proud of you! We should celebrate! How about dinner, tomorrow night?"

She laughed again, this time a carefree sort of laughter. "You're pretty sneaky, aren't you? But yes, I'd love to have dinner tomorrow night. I'll even cook, if you want."

He added the dinner invitation in jest, not thinking she'd actually bite. Gleefully, he asked, "Really?"

Happily, she nodded. "Still, we shouldn't have to wait tomorrow night to celebrate, don't you think,  _Diaval?_ "

His name sound like music on her lips, in her voice- smooth and rich and perfect. Diaval felt as if his face was going to split into two, the way he's grinning so widely, but his smile doesn't waver in the slightest as he pulled her to the dance floor, one of Leila's cheesy wedding songs playing in the background, Mallory's chuckles ringing in his ears.

* * *

**Epilogue (5 years later)**

When Diaval started out in the wedding planning business, he only thought that it'd be a way to pay the bills, not a career. However, it's been more than half a decade and yet, here he is, in a tux for the umpteenth time, seeing the culmination of several months' effort and organization.

Diaval went to visit his client, like he usually did before the ceremony.

An old friend and a familiar face answered the door. "Hello, Diaval. Come to check on your client?"

"Yes, can I see her?"

The maid-of-honor grinned. "I shouldn't allow you in, but I'm sure she'd love to see you. Go ahead but make it quick!" She left to give him privacy, closing the door behind her.

Diaval walked into the room, finally seeing the bride, the person he's planned this wedding for- Mallory. Hearing his footsteps, she turned around to face him.

"You're not supposed to be here." Mallory admonished, the smile on her face negating the scolding in her words.

Hands in the pockets of his trousers, he sauntered to her. "It's my duty to check on the client, you know. Part of the job and all that."

Smirking, she remarked, "Or you just couldn't wait any longer to see me."

"That too."

Diaval pulled her to him, one hand on her waist, the other reaching out to touch her cheek. His eyes roved over her form, taking in every detail. "You look absolutely breathtaking, love. Stunning. Ethereal."

Fiddling with the lapels of his suit, she shyly mumbled, "Oh, go on."

Lips quirking upward at the sides, Diaval listed off, "Alluring. Scintillating. Indescribable. Angelic-"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Diaval." Mallory interrupted.

"Don't need to. I've already gotten what I want."

Mallory flicked his nose. "Dork."

"Your fault entirely, Miss Moor."

She smiled cheekily at him. "In just a little while, it's not going to be 'Miss Moor' any longer."

A huge grin came unbidden on his face. "Good thing, that." Diaval leaned forward to kiss his soon-to-be wife, but she pushed him away lightly and tutted.

"No, Diaval. This one, you have to wait for."

"Aw, come on. For luck?"

"No means no, Diaval." He groaned and pouted, while Mallory laughed at his antics.

Disentangling herself from his embrace but still grasping his hands, Mallory commanded, "Go now before somebody else barges in here to get you."

Reluctantly, he made to leave. "Meet you at the altar?"

Mallory nodded, eyes alight with joy. "I'll be the one in white."

**Fin**

* * *

 

 **A/N:** If you read the entire thing, thank you! I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it. :)


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